His Story
by Sandpiper
Summary: A series of stores delving into Robin Hood's past that we never got to see.
1. Prologue

**Author's Notes: This will be an anthology of sorts of Robin Hood's life that we never got to see on the show.**

 **I won't lie, some of the things I write may be shocking to if you see Robin the way he came off in season 4 and 5...boring and one-dimensional. This will feature darkness. Trigger warnings will be used where appropriate.**

 **Also, for all my OQ fans, be assured that all of this is written with the backdrop that Regina is Robin's true soulmate. Thank you for your support!**

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The first thing Robin became aware of was the chirping of morning songbirds. Something he woke up to everyday.

His tongue felt heavy and dry as if he'd fallen asleep with a ball of wool in his mouth.

He was hungover.

He knew it immediately because that was something else he woke up to more days than not.

Cautiously he slid his eyes open, the sun filtering through the canvas of his tent hitting his eyes, feeling like it sliced all the way through his skull.

With a groan, squeezed his eyes closed again. Closing them so hard, though, only served to increase the pain.

He lay still, keeping his breathing shallow and steady because he knew that if he attempted to move he'd be sick.

As the fog in his head and turmoil in his stomach slowly eased, he tried opening his eyes again. Through the bright yellow glare, he caught sight of a woman's pale back at the foot of his cot as she eased her tunic over her head, and yanked her light brown hair out of the neck.

Closing his eyes again he swore to himself. Memories of the previous night were hazy. He did remember going to a tavern, but he didn't remember a woman. There had been plenty there, of course. There always were at taverns. However, he had no memory of any one in particular.

Looking over at her through one eye, she still had her back to him. He tired to think it over, but he really couldn't recall her face, much less her name!

He let out a rough sigh.

She jostled the cot harshly as she grabbed her boots from underneath it, and shoved them onto her feet with a disgusted huff. Apparently she was already angry...in a way that was a relief.

Once her boots were on, she flung the tent flap open violently, and stormed through the camp.

With a sigh, Robin shoved himself up off his cot. He wavered on his feet for a second before shuffling heavily around the cot.

He nudged his crumpled clothes on the floor of the tent until his toe hit the leather flask. Holding onto the main tent pole to avoid falling on his face, he picked it up and used his teeth to pry the cork out.

After spitting it into his free hand, he took a swing of mead. There wasn't much left inside, but enough to be an effective 'hair of the dog'.

"Greeting the dawn, I see?" a voice asked from outside his tent.

As Robin lowered the flask, he saw that it came from Tuck who was standing a few feet from his tent with a bucket of water and a judgmental expression.

He swallowed the liquor and gave Tuck as much of a cheeky grin as he could manage with a splitting headache, "What better way?"

"Perhaps, for the rest of our sake, with clothes on? Or at least with your tent closed?" the other man suggested.

Robin was too prideful to let himself be embarrassed, though, so he simply stretched his arms and answered, "I'm merely appreciating the Gods' creation in the state they created me!"

"I'm certain they're moved by your reverence," Tuck answered dryly before continuing on his way on through camp.

Robin laughed at his retreating form as he tossed back the last few sips of mead.


	2. Age 9

**Age 9**

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The spring rains that had been hammering the countryside had turned the marketplace grey and muddy, but it was still bustling with activity. The crowds of people and vending stands creating a cacophony for all senses.

The people walked quickly, trying to hurry along in their efforts to make a living while keeping their balance on the sodden ground. In their haste they barely noticed one another, anyone who wasn't looking out at risk of being run into including the nine year old boy who was trying to take in as much as he could while not showing any anxiety at the much bigger people passing him without notice.

He managed to keep his way, however by following his mother's form. She was perhaps the one person in the crowd who everyone made way for. Though not excessively tall, her noble bearing as well as her long golden hair and elegant gown made her stand out.

"Mama! Robin!" an excited voice yelled, a small girl rushing through the crowd, "There's a man over there with baby lambs!"

Before her mother could respond, their frazzled nurse caught up, scolding, "Hester! I told you to stay close! You could get lost!"

The rebuke make young Hester of Locksley pause, looking to her mother to see if she was in trouble.

"I'm sorry, Lady Gwendoline," the nurse bowed her head.

"That's alright, Wynnifred," her mother said, giving her daughter a gentle smile, "A man with lambs? They must be the first of the season."

The six year old instantly perked up and asked excitedly, "Can we take one home?"

Her mother laughed, "I'm afraid not."

The girl frowned at the answer.

"However, if we can find some honey we may be able to have cake with supper tonight," Lady Gwendoline said, "Perhaps you could help me look for some?"

Hester smiled and prepared to run off, but was stopped by her mother's voice, "Robin, go with your sister. Look after her."

"Yes, mother," Robin of Locksley nodded, stepping forward. Hester grinned more widely, grabbing her older brother's hand and dragging him through the crowd.

"Come on!" the young girl urged.

Robin let himself be dragged a little ways before stopping his sister, "Wait, Hester! That way is where the weavers and tanners are set up. All the grocers are over this way."

Hester allowed him to guide her back toward the farm stands. The two siblings hurried through the market, scanning eager eyes. Small, rickety carts and stand were set up selling a wide variety of herbs, breads, meats, and even a few spring berries.

"There!" Robin pointed as he spotted a older man with a wheelbarrow full of familiar shaped clay pots.

"Good day my young lord," he inclined his head to Robin as the two children ran up to him, "What may I help you with today?"

"We're looking for honey," Robin told him, trying to draw himself up as tall as he could.

"Well I have plenty of that, I do," the old man chuckled, motioning toward his cart. His amused mood turned more serious, however, as their mother emerged from the crowd. Almost immediately, he leaned heavily on his walking stick as he lowered himself into a bow, "M'lady."

"Good day, Sir," Lady Gwedoline Locksley greeted, "I see my children have found your wares."

"Yes, indeed, M'lady," the old man bobbed his head, "Finest honey in the land. I tend the hives myself."

"May I?" Gwendoline asked.

He nodded hastily, allowing her to removed the lid from one of the pots and use the dipper to inspect the thick amber liquid.

"It looks excellent," she praised, reaching for her coin purse, "I will take one."

The beekeeper happily selected the pot she'd examined, which was handed over to Wynnifred for safekeeping.

Gwedoline dropped two coins into his palm, not even flinching at his dirt stained fingers.

"Bless you, M'lady," he lowered himself back down in to a bow.

She smiled kindly at him before Wynnifred meekly caught her attention, "My lady, it is perhaps getting late? And it might rain."

The nurse's words caught Robin's attention as well. He looked up at the sky. It was impossible to see the sun behind all the clouds, but he could see the expanse of white giving way to thick grey in the distance.

His mother noticed it as well, nodding in agreement at the nurse's assessment, "Yes...come along, we must be getting home."

"Can't we stay a little longer?" Hester asked, frowning at the idea of leaving.

"One last look," Gwendoline said in an indulgent but firm voice.

Hester grabbed her brother's hand and the two weaved back through the stands excitedly, though aware that their mother was only a few steps behind him.

The sky had darkened considerably by the time they made it out of the market. Robin was distracted, however, by the blackberries his mother purchased that were sitting inside Wynnifred's basket along with the honey. Just the thought of the darkened fruits was making his stomach growl.

Gwendoline set a brisk pace as they travelled up the road towards Locksley castle, Wynnifred urging the children to keep up.

They were a field away from the castle walls when the rain started to fall.

Hester and Wynnifred both squeaked, pulling their shawls over their head in an attempt to stay dry.

"Hurry!" Gwendoline urged, lifting the hem of her skirt to hasten toward the castle.

Unencumbered by skirts, Robin made it to the gate first, stopping to look back for his mother and sister. The watchman, having caught sight of them opened the gate as the family arrived.

They hurried across the courtyard to the door, but the rain had picked up so much that all four were sodden by the time they got inside.

Lady Gwendoline let out a breath once the door was safely closed behind them, unwrapping her scarf, "I think we need some tea and a set of warm clothes."

"Yes, M'lady," Wynnifred nodded, "Come along, children! You'll catch your death!"

Robin grumbled inwardly at behind pushed up the stairs as if he were a small child. Luckily, he managed to convince the nurse that he did not need help changing.

Once both mother and children were dressed in warm, dry clothing. They settled in the main hall next to a fire and the steward brought tea with some cheese and the honey and blackberries from the market.

Robin happily filled himself up as his sister prattled to their mother, in between bit _es of berries.

Gwendoline listened indulgently, working busying herself with knitting as she sipped her tea.

Outside the stone walls, rain continued to fall but inside the small family sat by the fire enjoying each other's company, feeling content and safe from the outside world.

Robin lay on his stomach near the fire, using a space piece of kindling to draw shapes in the ash that had jumped off the flames.

He was making the outline of a castle when he caught the faint sound of rattling spurs.

Turning, he saw his father's silhouette approaching through the darkness of the hall.

Quickly, he pushed himself to his feet.

His mother had been sitting with Hester on her lap, showing her how to make the various stitches and did not notice her husband's approach until he was right behind her chair.

Sensing the presence behind her, she glanced over her shoulder, tensing when she saw who was there.

"My Lord," she said in surprise, "I didn't hear you come home."

"Indeed," Sir Walter Locksley answered in a hard tone, "I can see that since my own family apparently can't be bothered to stand to greet me."

"Not at all," Gwendoline answered. She gently lifted Hester off her lap and set her on her feet, but was much more hasty in dropping her knitting to stand up, "We were just waiting for you. Shall we have supper?"

Walter crossed his arms over his chest, giving his wife a thoroughly unimpressed look, "You've been sitting at home waiting for me, have you?"

Robin felt his stomach tense at his father's tone. Next to their mother, Hester gave him a desperate look. He knew that she wanted to come over so that she could hold his hand, but he subtly shook his head at her. Their mother, however, kept her composure even under the hard glare their father was giving her.

"I don't know what you mean, My Lord," she finally answered.

"You don't?" he mocked, "You know nothing about why I've been hearing gossip about my wife gallivanting wontly all over the countryside?"

Gwendoline chuckled neutrally at the accusation, "We simply went to the market, that is all. Now, let's have supper-"

As she spoke she reached forward to touch her husband's chest reassuringly. He moved in an instant, though, grabbing her wrist.

"You embarrassed me!" he hissed at her.

"My Lord!" she warned, "...the children."

Walter glanced his children over as if noticing their presence for the first time. Hester's eyes were wide with terror by this point. Robin tried to appear brave, though he was struggling to keep his knees form quaking.

Giving them a disgusted look, he pulled his wife toward him and instructed, "It's time they were to bed!"

Swallowing, Gwendoline forced a weak smile as she turned to her children and said roughly, "Goodnight, children."

Her deep blue eyes, caught Robin's pointedly. Nodding, he stepped forward and grabbed his sister around her shoulders, rushing her from the room and to the stairs.

They hurried up the stairs, breaking into a run once they were out of sight.

At the top, Hester sniffed, tears welling her eyes.

"Don't cry, Hes!" Robin ordered, "Be quiet!"

He guided her around to her room, finding Wynnifred inside. The nurse blinked at their appearance.

"Children, what are you doing here?" she inquired.

The two shifted awkwardly before Robin finally answered, "We've been sent to bed."

Catching his meaning, the older woman nodded, perking up with false cheer as she held out her hand to his sister, "Well come along, Miss Hester. Let's get your nightgown on."

After his sister was led away, Robin made his way to his own room. With the door shut behind him, he took a deep breath and tried to calm his racing heart. Only then he realized that he'd been clutching the twig he'd used to draw in the ash this entire time. _

Angrily, he chucked it across the room, storming over to his trunk. He shed his clothes and tossed them into a pile with those he'd removed earlier. Pulling his nightshirt over his head, he tossed back the covers and climbed into bed.

It didn't take long before Wynnifred to crack the door open, "Master Robin?"

He didn't answer, continuing to stare up at the stone ceiling.

She approached in the small glow of the candle she held, "Master, are you alright?"

"Fine," he grumbled.

Much to his annoyance, she placed a loving hand on his head. Setting the candle on the window sill, she leaned over his bed to check the shutters.

"It looks to storm tonight," she explained, giving him a kind smile, "Sleep well."

He didn't answer, but she didn't chastise him for it, simply picked her chandle back up and slipped out of the room.

As she'd predicted, the storm steadily picked up the rain clattering outside the window and the wind making the shudders thump against their stone frame.

It was impossible to sleep through, though Robin was glad for it. With the noise of the storm, he didn't hear any other noises in the castle...not like had in the past.

To his surprise, he did eventually hear a noise over the din. His door creaked open. The young boy tensed as he looked toward the door, trying to make out, in the dark, who had come inside. He finally got his answer when a small voice reached his ear, "Robin?"

He let out a breath, "Hester! What are you doing in here?"

Her feet padded across the floor as she approached his bed.

"I'm scared," she told him in a small voice.

"It's just a storm!" he scolded her.

Outside a crash of thunder boomed. Hester gasped, grabbing his arm tightly.

With a sigh, Robin tossed back the covers and told her, "Get in."

The small girly quickly clambered into his bed, and wedged herself into her brother's side.

"You know storms can't hurt you, Hes," he told her.

"I know," she answered with a frown.

The siblings lay together, neither acknowledging that her fear might be from more than just the storm.

Finally, she whisper, "Robin, will you tell me a story?"

Robin stared into the dark for a few moments before starting to speak, "Once upon a time there was a beautiful princess. She lived in a castle with her mother the queen and father the king-"

"And her brother?" Hester guessed.

"Do you want me to tell you a story or not?" he teased.

Giggling, she quieted.

"But the king had been enchanted by a sorcerer who made him do evil things," he went on, staring up at the darkened ceiling, "The queen tried to make him see reason but she couldn't, so one day the princess ran away. She disguised herself as a beggar and set out to try to find a way to save their kingdom. Then one day, on the road, she came across a knight who'd been thrown from his horse. Although she had nothing, she stopped to treat his wounds. It took several days, but she managed to nurse him back to health. When he was well, he was so grateful for her help that he vowed that he owed her his life, so she revealed who she was and the curse on her kingdom. The knight was surprised, but he kept his vow and together they set out to defeat the sorcerer."

"And did they?" Hester asked.

"Of course, they did," Robin answered.

"And they got married?" she prompted excitedly.

The boy rolled his eyes, but agreed, "Yes, after they defeated the sorcerer the king and queen agreed to let them marry."

"And they lived happily ever after?" his sister asked, the fear gone from her voice.

"Yes," Robin said quietly, "They lived happily ever after."

With a happy sigh, Hester cuddled further into the blankets and relaxed as she drifted off into sleep. Robin lay next to her, glad that his sister was happy enough to sleep. Turning over on his side, he watched the shudders thumping in the storm, sleep taking much longer to claim him.

* 0 * 0 * 0 * 0 * 0 * 0 *

Robin sat cross legged across from Michael Tuck. He was the son of the local apothecary. His father had treated he and Hester since they were children and lived in a cottage near the castle.

His son was a quiet young boy with serious eyes. In spite of their differences in personality and station, though, he and Robin had been friends ever since they were little.

Looking intently at the tarnished metal pieces, he lined up his shot with an acorn. The rustling of Hester's skits behind him, distracted him, however.

Letting out an annoyed breath, he looked over his shoulder at her, "Hester, can you go play somewhere else?"

"No!" she protested, tucking her skits underneath her to sit down next to him, "I want to play too!"

"Hester!" he complained.

"Here," Michael offered, leaning over to her to show how her how to hold and aim an acorn. "The aim is to hit the jacks out of the circle. Whoever ends up with the most wins."

Clapping excitedly, she took the acorn, aimed it and sent it flying well beyond the circle.

"Well now you have to go get it!" Robin teased.

She pouted, but stood to chase after the acorn.

"Why did you tell her that?" Michael asked, "Any acorn will do."

"Get her to stop following me around for a few minutes!" he answered, taking aim and knocking two jacks out of the circle.

After he collected them, Michael picked up another acorn and hit one out himself.

"I found it!" Hester announced, sitting down next to them. She missed her next three shots but finally managed to hit one out.

She was cheering in celebration when a voice came from behind them, "A game of, knucklebones?"

The three children looked up. Michael Tuck Sr. smiled down at them.

"Yes, sir," Hester answered pleasantly, "I managed to knock one out!"

"Well done Miss Locksley," he answered, "Mister Locksley."

"Sir," Robin stood, "Good day to you."

"Good day, how is your mother?"

"Quite well, Sir."

"Wonderful, Michael...I believe it's time for your archery practice," Tuck Sr said.

Michael sighed, but began gathering up his jacks into their thin cloth pouch.

"Archery?" Hester asked, "What are you learning archery for?"

"I have to," Michael said unhappily, "All boys have to."

"What?" Robin asked in confusion.

"All boys below the rank of viscount," Tuck Sr. clarified, "By order of the king."

"Why?" Hester asked.

"In case there's a war," Robin told her.

His sister looked alarmed at the idea, so Tuck Sr. reassured her, "Not to worry, it's simply a precaution."

The smile he gave her didn't quite reach his eyes, though. In fact, they had the same disturbed look his mother got on the few time she spoke about when King John defeated his pretender brother and save the kingdom.

Frowning, Robin asked, "Why don't I have to learn it?"

"Because you'll be knight!" Hester declared, "Won't he Master Tuck?"

Tuck laughed, "If it comes to that."

"I don't know how to be a knight," he said worriedly.

"No one will have to worry about any of that for a long time!" Tuck Sr. said firmly as he lead the children along to the back of the cottage, "The archery order is simply for practice. It takes a long time to master."

"If you ever do," Michael grumbled as he went inside and emerged with his bow and arrows.

"It's just for a few hours, lad," his father scolded.

"I don't want to go to war!"

"Enough talk of war!" the older man said, "Now come on, let's find a tree for you to practice."

"Can I try?" Robin asked.

Tuck Sr. frowned and said hesitantly, "I don't know if that's a good idea."

"Why?" he asked.

"Lord Locksley may not wish it."

"Please," Robin implored, "I won't say anything to father. I promise!"

"Alright," Tuck Sr. finally gave in. Taking his son's bow, he showed Robin how to hold it properly.

"Now, when you're ready," he pointed to a tree, "Draw the arrow back then lose and try to hit that tree."

Robin nodded and began to pull the string back. The resistance was much more than he expected and his arm shook by the time he got it all the way back. Letting out a sudden breath, he loosed the string, sending the arrow flying. It only went a short distance, landing far sort of the tree.

Hester giggled behind him.

"That's alright," Tuck Sr. squeezed his shoulder, "As I said, it takes practice."

With that he took the bow back and handed it over to Michael. Even though the bow was nearly as long as the younger boy was tall, he drew it with seemingly no difficulty, causing Robin's cheeks to burn with embarrassment. The arrow flew straight, embedding itself in the tree trunk.

"Can I try next?" Hester asked.

"Archery isn't for girls!" Robin snapped.

"Yes, you may," Tuck Sr. told her, "You never know where talent may come from!"

Hester gave him a gloating smile as Michael handed over the bow. Tuck stood behind her helping her airm, and even helped her draw, obviously putting most of the effort in. The arrow sailed and embedded near Michael's in the tree.

Hester stared in amazement before jumping up and down, "I did it! I did it!"

Tuck laughed, "You are a natural, my lady."

As Hester beamed proudly, Robin frowned, turning away from the two.

"Master Locksley!" Tuck called after him. Robin turned, a sour expression his face. Tuck ignored it, though, and said with an amused expression, "You know practice makes true accomplishments."

"What does that mean?" he asked.

"It means that everything takes effort," Tuck said, "If you wish to practice with us again, you're welcome."

Robin frowned, still not really understanding. Shaking off the confusion, he said, "Come on, Hester. We need to be getting home."

Handing back the bow, Heter waved goodbye as she hurried after Robin back toward the castle.

She happily skipped along ahead of him.

They walked through the gate, across the courtyard and in through the open castle door. As they went inside both children instinctively quieted.

They arrived at the main room as Wynnifred was making her way down the stairs. Pleased to see them, she steered them down the steps to the kitchen where she washed their hands in a basin of warm water and then walked them up to the dining room.

Their mother was already there, standing behind where a plate had been set for her.

"Good evening, Mother," Robin said walking over to stand behind his place.

"Hello, did you two have fun today?" she asked.

"Yes!" Hester said excitedly, "I shot an arrow!"

Gwendoline beamed, "That's wonderful, Darling."

Hester opened her mouth to speak again, but quieted when she heard their father's footsteps approaching.

Both children looked at their plates when he emerged in the doorway. Out the corner of his eye Robin could see their mother meeting his eyes strongly, giving him an encouraging smile.

The older man largely ignored it, moving over to the head of the table and nodding at his family to sit.

Robin picked up his spoon and began quietly picking at the lamb stew on his plate.

"I'll be going out tonight," Walter announced.

Gwedoline set her spoon down and looked at him expectantly.

"Don't wait up for me," he finished, turning his attention back to his meal.

Their mother nodded obediently, not commenting.

Robin let out a sigh of relief, eating with more relish after that.

After the dinner plates were removed and Robin and Hester were escorted up to their rooms by Wynnifred, Walter, as he announced, ordered his horse saddled and rode out the front gate.

Robin watched from one of the upper windows as the gate closed behind him.

Moving away, he climbed down the stairs into the main hall where his mother was sitting by the fire with a book.

"Robin?" she asked when she caught sight of him, "What are you doing up so late?"

"I was wondering…" he started.

"Yes, my love?" she encouraged.

"What happened in the war?"

Her expression fell, "Why do you want to know that?"

He shrugged.

His mother seemed to understand, though. Setting aside her book with a heavy sigh, she began, "Long ago, before I was born, all these lands were ruled by a great empire. However, there were problems. The emperor was betrayed and he fell from power. With the emperor no longer around, the lands fell into chaos. All the lords of the lands nearby rallied around one of the strongest and he became King Richard the first. However, when I wasn't much older than you, he died. He'd never had any children, so two of his nephews stepped up to take up his throne."

"King John and his pretender brother, right?" Robin asked, having heard this part of the story many times.

"Yes," she said quietly.

"Why do all boys have to learn archery in case of another war?" Robin asked.

"Where did you hear that?"

"Michael and Master Tuck told me that the king decreed it, but that I don't have to because I'll be a lord some day," he answered, "Why would there be another war, though? The king's brother is gone."

"Gone, yes," Gwendoline nodded, "But…"

"But what, Mother?"

She let out a nervous breath, "Robin, you must understand...what I am about to tell you has been declared treason to even mention. You must never speak of it to anyone! Not your friends, and especially not your sister, she's too young to understand."

"Alright," he said, leaning forward eagerly.

"I'm serious!" she told him firmly, "You cannot forget!"

"I won't, Mother!" he promised.

"The king's brother is gone but no one knows where."

He blinked in confusion, "But he's dead?"

"No one knows that," she told him, "The war ended not with a battle, but because the king's brother simply disappeared."

"So he might come back some day?" Robin asked in alarm.

"That is a possibility you must never again speak!" Gwendoline hissed at him.

He jumped in alarm at her tone, but nodded obediently.

Letting out a breath she said sadly, "I shouldn't have told you this."

Robin frowned, but didn't answer.

Holding her hands out, she instructed him, "Come here."

As he stepped forward, she leaned over and kissed his forehead, "Go to bed now. That's enough serious talk for one evening."

He nodded, wishing her a quiet goodnight and climbing up the stairs. He wasn't sure what to make of what his mother had told him, but he had the feeling it was something worth remembering.

* 0 * 0 * 0 * 0 * 0 * 0 *

"Halt, foul beast!" Robin yelled, waving a stick as a sword, "Your days of terrorizing this land have come to an end!"

"Alas, My Lord, he has flown away!" Michael Tuck said in alarm.

Both boys ducked, prending to avoid flapping dragon wings.

"Then we must hunt him down!" Robin answered, "Follow me, my faithful squire!"

The two sprinted into the woods, yelling and swatting trees and bushes and kicking up a racket as their imaginary chase of a fire breathing beast played out vividly in their young minds.

At the edge of the forest, they both stopped, however, when the sound of hand drums and laments reached their ears.

Quieting, they crept along to the edge of the trees and chose a large one to climb up. The top of the tree offered a good view of the worn circle of stones at the shrine.

The two boys watched quietly as the solemn sounds got louder, and a processional of women in black approached.

This day was known as the festival of women and, as she did every year, Robin's mother sent him out to play, keeping his sister behind at the castled.

He'd never seen the procession. Men were strictly forbidden from even viewing it.

The procession stopped as they neared the circle, the dumbs going quiet. The women slowly stepped aside, and Robin was surprised to see his mother step to the front. He couldn't see her face, but her long, gold hair was unmistakable where it fell out from beneath the veil over her head.

She walked into the middle of the stones, quietly squatting to lay three white flowers at the middle alter. After she stood, and walked back to the group. He saw her take her place next to Wynnifred and Hester, both were also wearing black veils. Wynnifred had her head bowed solemnly and Hester, though obviously confused by the ceremony, held their mother's hand and stood uncharacteristically still.

One by one, after his mother, other women from the crowd walked forward to lay flowers as well, the only sound echoing off the stones an occasional sob.

"We aren't supposed to see this," Michael said, and began climbing down.

"What are they doing?" Robin asked.

"Shh!" his friend hissed.

Glancing back one last time, Robin followed him down from the tree.

"Wait! What was it they were doing?"

"Don't you listen to priests?" Michael asked irritably.

"Father doesn't let us attend temple," Robin said unhappily.

"The festival is for mothers to mourn lost children," the younger boy rolled his eyes.

Robin frowned, recalling his mother laying the three flowers at the shrine.

"We weren't supposed to watch that," Michael interrupted unhappily, "Men are forbidden."

Shaking off disturbing thoughts, Robin asked, "What are you afraid the gods will strike you down?"

"You shouldn't joke about that!" his friend protested, "Anyway, I have to be getting home."

"Why? Robin asked.

"I have to practice archery, you know that!" he said.

Jogging Robin caught up with him, "Can I come too?"

"Why?"

"Your father said I could."

Michael shrugged, "You can if you want to, but I don't see why you would!"

"This time I'll beat you!" Robin said.

The other boy laughed, "Yeah right! You can't even draw the bow!"

"I'll show you!" he protested, "Just you watch...in a few weeks I'll be better than you ever were!"

"You're on!" Michael challenged.

Laughing, the two boys forgot the solemn ceremony they'd spied on, as they chased each other back to the Tuck cottage.


	3. Age 13 Part 1

**Summer: Age 13**

The arrow sailed straight embedding itself in the center of the crudely drawn target on the bail of hay.

Robin smiled as he lowered his bow.

Beside him Michael Tuck, drew his next shot and landed it slightly off center.

"Excellent, Robin," Tuck Sr. said, looking out from the workshop where he was hanging herbs to dry, "I see you've been practicing."

Robin beamed at the praise.

"Michael," Tuck nodded, turning back to wrapping a bushel of sage.

His son sighed, folding his long legs underneath him and standing from where he'd been sitting on the grass.

Robin stepped aside, allowing the other boy to step up and take aim. Michael's shot landed slightly off center of the target.

"Good," Tuck Sr. nodded as he wiped his hands on his apron and went inside the cottage, "Keep practicing!"

Michael sighed, letting his bow dangle by his side.

"What do you hate about it so much?" Robin laughed, lining up his next shot and landing it inside the target as well.

"Because I might some day have to use it!," the other boy grumbled, rolling his eyes as Robin shot two other arrows, placing them in a perfect line, "To you it's just a game!"

"Don't be daft!" Robin told him, "There isn't going to be a war!"

Michael frowed, shrugging his shoulders.

"You're just mad I'm finally better than you at something!" Robin shoved him playfully.

"You mean besides reaching high shelves?" Michael shove him back, conspicuously towering over the older but shorter boy.

Growling, Robin dropped his bow, charged, and headbutted Michael in his stomach. The two fell to the ground wrestling each other until a stalemate was reached with both boys pinning each other in the grass.

"Alright!" Tuck Sr. broke up the lighthearted fight, "I think that's enough for today."

The two broke apart, standing up and dusting themselves off. Both picked up their bows and carried them into the Tuck cottage. Robin hung his on the set of hooks on the wall with a wistful sigh. He wished he could take it home with him, but when Tuck Sr. made him this bow they both knew that it was something that would have to be kept from his father.

"Robin," Tuck called as he headed for the door. Robin turned to him questioningly.

"This is for your mother," the apothecary held out a pouch to him, "Tell her to mix it with a cup of tea twice a day."

Robin nodded, taking the pouch and storing it in the pocket of his tunic.

"I'll try to come by to see her later this week."

"Thank you," he answered.

"Alright, lad, best be getting home," Tuck said, walking him to the door of the cottage to see him off.

After waving goodbye to both his friends, Robin set out on the path back to the castle.

The courtyard was bustling with activity when he got back, servants running every which way. They stopped briefly to nod to him before hurrying along their way.

Furrowing his brow in confusion, Robin jogged up the steps. The front door was wide open, letting in light and warm air.

As he reached the main room, he was surprised to see his mother up and in one of her finer gowns.

"Mother?" he asked.

"Robin!" she turned, "There you are!"

"What's going on?"

"We're having a visitor," Lady Gwendoline explained, "He'll be here any minute so I need you to get washed up!"

"A visitor? Who? Does Father know?"

"You'll see in a moment," she rushed him toward the stairs, "Go get washed!"

"Wait," he spun out of her grasp to pull the pouch from Tuck out of his pocket, "Tuck gave you this."

Her eyes flashed gratefully at the sight of it.

"Oh, thank you, my love," she breathed, taking it from his hands.

"Are you feeling better?" he asked quietly.

She looked up, meeting his eyes with brief alarm, but quickly put on a brave face, "I'm fine. Hurry now!"

He knew she was lying. With a sigh he climbed the stairs and made his way toward his room to change into clean tunic.

When he emerged, he ran into Hester coming out of her room.

"Ah!" she exclaimed, "Watch where you're going, you oaf!"

"You watch where you're going!" he shot back. As the two walked down the stairs together he took in the fancy gown and hood she was wearing. It was her best dress but he wasn't sure whether their mother had instructed her to put it on or whether she'd simply taken any excuse to dress up, "Do you know who's coming?"

"Mother says it's our cousin," Hester smiled.

"What cousin?" he asked in confusion.

"I don't know," she said as she leapt down from the last step, "But it must be someone important. Mother's been running around all morning getting ready!"

"Does Father know?" Robin asked.

"I don't know," she answered, "But Father won't be back for another few weeks."

The boy frowned, but walked alongside his sister to the main hall and out to the courtyard. Their mother was already there alongside an anxious looking Wynnifred.

When she caught sight of them, she took in her two children, nodding in approval at their appearances.

Her attention was quickly drawn by the distant sound of hoofbeats. Instantly she turned toward the gate standing tensely as she awaited the approaching rider.

Robin and Hester both stood on tip-toe in an effort to see who was coming.

He wanted to run to the guard gate to get a better look, but a sharp glance from Wynnifred rebuked the idea before he could even voice it.

Finally, the rider came into view, revealing himself to be a man on a great white steed with an attendant following on an equally impressive tan horse.

The two children watched in awe as the riders clattered through the gate and across the stone courtyard, bringing their mounts to a stop near the steps.

Drawing herself up, Gwendoline smiled widely as she made her way down the steps, "Roland."

The lead rider dismounted gracefully. He wasn't wearing armor, and his clothes were utilitarian, though, still obviously of expensive leather and wool. Even off his horse he cut an impressive figure.

After his attendant dismounted, he handed off the reigns to him and climbed the steps to meet her.

"Cousin, you look a bit thin. Have Locksley lands fallen on hard times?" he asked as he took her hands and leaned in to kiss her cheek, "Not that you aren't still the fairest in all the land."

"I am an old married lady," Gwendoline laughed off the compliment, "However, I assure you we are doing quite well. These are my children, Robin and Hester. Children, this is my cousin Earl Roland."

He nodded to them, "Hello."

Hester simply stared. Robin, however, managed to shake off his silence to step up and offer his hand, "Hello, Sir."

Smirking in amusement, the man shook his hand firmly, "Hello to you, Cousin. And you Miss."

Blushing, Hester bobbed a curtsey.

"Come," Gwendoline said, taking his arm to lead him into the castle, "I have some wine and fruit waiting."

"Lead the way then," Earl Roland laughed.

At Wynnifred's direction, Robin and Hester waited by curiously as their mother hosted her cousin in the main room until a maid arrived to announce that dinner was ready.

The four moved to the dining room where the table was laid with plates of bread, fruit, sweetmeats, and roast boar.

"My," Roland commented as Gwendoline led him to the head of the table, "This is quite a king's welcome. What have I done to deserve such luxury?"

"Don't be silly," Gwendoline teased, "We are family."

Robin could see from the man's expression that he wasn't quite convinced, but he didn't press the issue, "I see. Well then let's enjoy this fine meal."

Robin, Hester, and their cousin dug eagerly into their dinner while Gwendoline, as was her habit of late, ate sparingly.

Over the course of the meal the conversation turned to the company of knights that Earl Roland commanded that were presently deployed to patrol the northern borders of the kingdom.

"How long are you in the north?" Robin asked.

"During the warmer months," Roland answered, taking a sip of wine, "My companies are patrolling now. I had to leave them to carry a message to the king, but I am on my way back now. Luckily the Locksley holdings were on the way so I had a chance to visit my cousin and family. We keep the mountains safe until they are blocked by the first snow fall, then we return to our homes for the winter."

"Your wife doesn't mind?" Hester asked.

"I'm not married," Roland answered, "Perhaps some day...if I meet the right woman."

"I've heard there's trolls in the mountains!" she went on excitedly, "Have you seen any?"

He laughed, "No, Lady Hester, I'm afraid I haven't encountered any trolls. I'm afraid they're quite rare these days. Mostly my men and I find bandits and highwaymen who make life difficult for the villages."

"Is that why the king sent you there?" Robin asked, "To look for outlaws?"

The man paused at the question, exchanging a tense look with Gwendoline.

"Among other things," he finally answered.

"Alright, that's enough questions, finish your supper," Gwendoline instructed.

They ate the rest of their meal in relative quiet before retiring to the main hall. There Gwendoline instructed the children to say goodnight to their cousin.

Hester stepped forward first, long since having gotten over her initial shyness in their cousin's presence, "Goodnight, Cousin Roland. It was lovely meeting you! You will come see us again soon?"

"If fate permits, Lady Hester," Roland smiled at her, turning to Robin to shake his hand, "Master Robin, good to meet you."

Robin returned the handshake before heading to the stairs with his sister.

Once they were out of an earshot, Hester said to him, "This so exciting! I wonder why he's here?"

"You only wonder that because you think he's handsome."

"Don't be daft!" she protested, "He's our cousin!"

"Yes, that's why you should be ashamed of yourself," Robin teased.

"You shut up!" she stomped her foot, "Did you see how odd Mother was acting?"

"No," Robin lied.

"Well she was up all morning," Hester said conspiratorially, "You know how tired she gets. Something must be going on."

"You're imagining things," Robin told her, refusing to think about the truth in what she'd said.

"I'm going to find out what it is," she declared.

"And how will you do that?"

"Easy," she said proudly, tip-toeing back to a spot near the landing of the stairs, "If I stick to the shadows I can sneak down to hear them!"

"That's foolish."

"Well if you're too scared…" she turned, turning away from him.

"Do what you want but don't blame me if you get caught!"

Hester stuck out her tongue in response and continued sneaking down the stairs.

Shrugging off his sister's stubbornness, Robin continued along to his bedroom, trying not to admit that he was also curious.

* 0 * 0 * 0 * 0 * 0 * 0 *

"Robin!" he was jolted awake by Hester poking him in the ribs.

"Ah!" he startled, groaning at he made her figure out in the dark, "What?!"

"I know why he's here!"

"What?" he repeated.

"Cousin Roland," she said in exasperation, "I know why he's here!"

Robin groaned, covering his arm with his eyes.

"It's to take you away!" she said.

He looked up at her, "What?"

"Mother wants him to take you away to his arm! I heard her say so?"

He was fully awake now.

"You can't go, Robin! You can't leave me here!" he could hear her tearing up.

"I'm not going anywhere, Hes," he promised as he stood up, "Just go back to bed."

"But-"

"Go," he insisted making his way to the door, "I'll go see what they're saying."

As the light from the candles in the hall poured in he could see her frown. Rushing forward, she hugged him around his middle.

He hugged back, before urging her again to go to her room.

She left with a nod.

Once he heard her door close he slowly crept halfway down the steps until he could make out voices in the main hall.

"As much as we may be glorified magistrates, I command an army, Gwen, not a nursery," Roland said.

"Robin's thirteen now," his mother insisted, "In two years he'll be old enough to become a squire anyway! And since he's family no one will say anything if you take him early."

"What does Lord Walter think of this?" Roland asked.

He was met with silence.

"You haven't asked him?"

"Roland-" his mother started.

"Gwen, you can't just send his son away to apprentice without his permission!"

"I'm trying to do what's best for my son!"

He heard Roland sigh, "You know this sort of life is difficult? And it can be dangerous! As a second son I have little choice, but Robin will inherit some day. As his heir, surely his father will teach him what he needs to know?"

His mother spoke very measuredly, "I think some...outside influence would be good for him."

"Why do you say that?"

Robin didn't the get the chance to hear her answer as he heard the creaking of the bottom steps, likely Wynnifred coming up to check on them.

He scrambled back up the steps and ran as quietly as he could back to his room.

With the door safely closed behind him, he took a deep breath. His chest felt hot as he sucked in air.

Hester had been right. His mother wanted to send him away!

* 0 * 0 * 0 * 0 * 0 * 0 *

The rest of the night had been fitful for him, and he woke early that morning at the echoing of hoofbeats in the courtyard.

Springing up, he threw open the shutters and saw Earl Roland's valet leading their horses from the stable.

Moving quickly, he changed into his breeches and tunic, and raced to the front door.

It was already open, his mother and Roland standing side by side.

He quickly stopped before they could hear him approaching.

"Have you thought about what I said?" his mother asked.

Roland sighed heavily, "When I come back down for the winter...if Walter agrees, I'll consider it."

"Thank you, Roland," his mother said, the relief audible in her voice.

With a brief kiss on her cheek, Roland mounted his horse and rode alongside his valet out the gate, onto the road north.

Gwendoline stared after him quietly until Robin broke the silence, "So it's true, then?"

She startled whirling around, "Robin! You frightened me…"

"You want me go away?!" he demanded.

Her breath catching in alarm, she tried to calm him, "Robin, I-"

"You asked him to take me away!" he protested, "You don't want me!"

With that he whirled, preparing to flee her presence.

"Robin wait!" she yelled, running inside after him.

"Robin-" she gasped, falling to her knees in the middle of the hall.

He turned back, prepared to fight her fruther, but was alarmed to see her swaying on her hands and knees.

"Mother?" he asked.

She tried to push herself up but wavered.

"Mother!" he ran over to catch her as she stumbled against him, lightheadedness over taking her.

"Help!" Robin yelled, "Someone help!"

The comotion drew the attention of a couple maids who reacted with horror upon seeing their lady nearly fainting.

"M'lady!" the ran over, helping lower her to the floor.

"What happened?" the older one asked.

"I don't know!" Robin said, his voice shaking, "She started to fall!"

"Run and fetch a groom from the stables! Hurry!" the older maid said, sending him racing across the courtyard.

When he returned with one of the grooms the maid's young boy was dispatched to run to the Tuck cottage, and the groom lifted Gwendoline from the hall to carry her up to her chambers.

Robin followed, Hester joining them having been awoken by the commotion. Wynnifred stopped them short of following their mother into her chamber, though.

After what felt like forever, Tuck Sr climbed up the stone steps and was immediately shown into Gwendoline's chamber.

Robin tried to catch a glimpse inside, but the door slammed behind him too quickly.

Hester reached down, taking his hand and squeezing it encouragingly.

Finally, Tuck came out.

"Is Mother alright?" Robin demand.

"Yes," Tuck nodded, "She's resting now."

"I want to see her-"

Hester ran toward the door but Tuck managed to grab the back of her nightgown, "She needs to sleep now. Why don't you get dressed and you can see her later?"

A nod to Wynnifred helped usher Hester back to her room.

"Robin," Tuck said, "Will you come with me?"

As the two walked down the steps, Robin finally spoke, "I'm sorry! I didn't mean to upset her-"

"I understand," Tuck said, "But she needs to rest. You must help her do that."

"And she'll get better?" Robin asked.

He paused on their way to the front door, "It will help her."

He nodded quickly, "Okay, I will."

Tuck put an encouraging hand on Robin's shoulder before excusing himself back to his cottage.

After the doors closed, Robin walked back to the main room and climbed the steps upstairs. There he found his mother's door open, and Hester talking quietly with her while she lay in bed.

He stopped to watch from the doorway. Looking over, she held out a hand beckoning him to her.

"Robin…"

Swallowing he stepped into the room, "Mother, I'm sorry-"

"It's alright, my love," she assured him, "Just sit with me for a while."

She setled her head back into a pillow, eyes sliding shut. Standing on opposite sides of the bed Robin and Hester met each other's eyes briefly, but found little to say to each other.


End file.
